


Cold Blood

by voidfoxstarlight



Category: Archivist Bot, The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Child death (mentioned), Inspired By Tumblr, Inspired by Dreams, M/M, inspired by archivistbot, jon sims is also there but he's not integral to the plot so im not putting him in characters, mention and brief description of burning alive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:48:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23991079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voidfoxstarlight/pseuds/voidfoxstarlight
Summary: Elias gets some revenge on Jude Perry.AKA archivistbot invented a character and my subconscious said "cool! but make it painful."
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas
Comments: 4
Kudos: 46





	Cold Blood

**Author's Note:**

> [Archivistbot](https://archivistbot.tumblr.com/) invented Marcus Bouchard, Peter and Elias's two-year-old son, and then I had a dream that Jude Perry killed him and I couldn't get it out of my head so I wrote this.

Elias’s eyes caught on Jon’s bandage-wrapped hand. “What is that?” he asked sharply.

“Wh—a burn?”

“Did Jude Perry do that?”

“Yes? Why?”

Elias’s eyes gleamed. _Finally_. “What’s her address?”

“What—I don’t—”

“Her _address_ , Jon. _Now_.”

Jon eyed him warily but recited the address.

Elias hit speed dial one and said without preamble, “Peter. I found her.” He rattled off the address and ordered, “Hold her until I get there. Do _not_ kill her yet.”

Ignoring Jon’s small noise of alarm, he threw on his coat and stalked out of his office. As he passed Rosie’s desk, he called over his shoulder, “Rosie, I’m going to be out for the rest of the day.”

“I’ll reschedule your meetings,” she called after him.

He hailed a cab and rode the entire way to Jude’s flat in tense silence. His fingers drummed on his knee. At that moment, he Knew, Peter had Jude trapped in her apartment. He was taunting her with memories of Agnes Montague, and reminders of how alone Jude was now that she was dead.

He texted Peter to buzz him in when he arrived. 

Jude’s flat was cold by normal standards—downright frigid for an avatar of the Desolation. Mist wrapped around Jude’s feet. Her face was fixed in a vicious scowl. Peter was stood quite casually next to the door.

“Ms. Perry,” Elias said calmly, though his heart was pounding.

“Fucker,” she snarled. “Call off your attack dog.”

“Peter is no attack dog. This is for both of us. You should have known that.”

“Didn’t think he actually cared,” Jude muttered. “He doesn’t care about you. Shouldn’t’ve been any different for your so—”

The mist rose up to her torso and went almost opaque. She gasped and doubled over.

“I suggest you shut your mouth,” Peter said pseudo-cheerfully.

She glared at him and started to speak, but Elias cut her off. “You claim to love the ruinous destruction of the Desolation, the fear of their victims, but you are wrong. You _know_ their fear, but you do not _feel_ it. I can know and feel anything I wish, and I have felt my son’s pain as he burned alive more times than you would care to count.”

He advanced on her, careless of the Lonely’s fog. “I invite you to feel it with me, this time.”

He forced the pain and the horror and the senseless fear Marcus had felt as his delicate flesh melted off his bones. He made her relive it again, and again, and again until she fell to her knees, weeping. Her tears sizzled and evaporated on her flesh. She was ruined.

Elias looked away. “Take her.”

The creeping fog dissipated. Both Jude and Peter disappeared. Elias sagged into an armchair and covered his face with trembling hands. He shed no tears, but it was a near thing.

The return of the mist signalled Peter’s return. Elias let himself be pulled into a hug and leaned his temple against Peter’s chest.

“Is she dead?”

“No.”

“Is she suffering?”

“Very much so.”

Elias’s fists clenched in the back of Peter’s coat. “ _Good_ ,” he said viciously.

They stood still like that for a few moments, both unwilling to break the silence and return to daily life.

“Are we married right now?” Elias murmured. Peter always knew when they were married.

“No.”

“Marry me.”

Peter rested his cheek on the top of Elias’s head. “Of course.”


End file.
